


Ways to Fall

by Amaria_Anna_D



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ableism, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-05-28 15:56:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6335119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amaria_Anna_D/pseuds/Amaria_Anna_D
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers is college student barely making ends meet when he gets a job reading for a blind freshman. The pair hit it off, but neither of them are the best at relationships and it seems that there is always something or someone standing in their way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue/Chapter 1

Ways To Fall

 

Prologue

 

Steve had spent so much time in the student aid office by his junior year he could name all of the aging aid worker’s eight grand-kids off by age and her cats by color. Clutching his latest stack of forms and student loan paperwork, he pasted on his best attempt at a smile and shoved the remaining shreds of his pride so far down they had to be leaking out of the soles of his beat up Converse. Despite the years of practice he’d had, he still couldn’t feel entirely at ease with the fact that he was dependent on squeezing every penny he could get out of an already over-taxed system just to get an education and not starve in the meantime. His mother had worked herself into an early grave to make sure that he made something of his life, and if his pride was just another causality of his poverty then so be it.

“Good morning, Gladys,” he said as he made his way up to the window. “I like the new glasses.”

Pulling off the fore mentioned bright red rimmed glasses and letting them dangle on beaded chain, the old woman gave him chuckle as she shook her head. “You keep charming an old woman long enough and she’ll accidentally mark your bills paid in full; is that your angle, Mr. Rogers?”

“A guy can hope,” he sighed, in mock resignation. “I filled out all of the forms just like you told me to.”

“Good boy.” Gladys accepted the pile and immediately began sorting them with quick, dark hands that moved so fast they barely seemed like they could belong to a seventy year old. Just as quickly as she’d scanned the paperwork, she started typing numbers into an older style calculator with a printer attached. She frowned at the numbers and re-entered them.

A lump formed in the back of Steve’s throat. If what was in that stack wasn’t enough, he didn’t have a dime left to his name or anyone else to borrow it from. “Is it enough?” he managed to ask.

Gladys slide her glasses back on and stared at him for a moment. “If you don’t get a meal plan, it just barely covers it...and that’s even to taking into account that off campus apartment you found. You’ll need more than just book store hours to survive.”

“I can find another part time job,” he told her, letting his shoulders sag with relief. “I don’t eat much anyway.”

“Boy, I am pretty sure you can’t afford to be losin’ any weight.” She eyed his frame that was so thin it was near skeletal. It was a look Steve was used to, but that didn’t stop him from standing up a little taller and trying to hold his scrawny shoulders a little straighter.

“I’ll be fine,” he lied. In all honesty, he already took advantage of the student food pantry that was discreetly offered to low income students. Getting a part time job close to school had been harder than he’d thought it would be when he’d first come to Columbia. With the exception of a couple of days a week at the school’s book store and a short-lived stint working as a bus boy at a diner, he hadn’t been able to find a damn thing. Well, he’d just have to try again.

Gladys looked like she was less than convinced, but then suddenly something on her desk caught her eye. “Have any problem with reading aloud?”

“None at all,” he replied. A thread of hope began to bubble in his gut, but he was too afraid to let it grow.

“I may have just solved two problems in one day then,” she said with a self-satisfied chuckle. She picked up a piece of paper and smiled at it thoughtfully. “This just got emailed over a bit ago, and I hadn’t even posted it yet. I suppose it might be just a bit wrong to give it straight to you. So you better not let me down, you hear?”

Steve nodded enthusiastically. “Wouldn’t dream of it. What exactly would I be reading?”

“Whatever books Mr. Murdock needs you to,” she replied with a shrug. “A blind freshman is starting this semester, and the school needs to get him set up with a reader. The pay is pretty decent and you two can schedule your hours together. Sound like something you’re interested in?”

“It sounds great!”

“Well then I will send your information up to Penny in the office, and she’ll get you in touch with the other boy.” Gladys scratched a few notes on the paper before looking up at him. “Just so you know though, if you don’t work out well with this kid, he does have the right to request someone else. Don’t hang all of your hopes on this, Steve. Sometimes things take a twist you just aren’t expecting for.”

Only half hearing her warning, Steve mumbled his agreement and his good byes while already feeling some of the pressure slide off of his chest. Despite Gladys’ correct assumption that he couldn’t spare to lose even a single one of his hundred and ten pounds, there was a more pressing weight that he’d been carrying for the entire summer. He felt a million tons lighter as he walked across the commons to his bus stop. His roach infested apartment and rude room mate weren’t on his mind, nor were the dozens of other compromises he’d had to make to get by. For the first time in a long time, he was hopeful.

 

 

Chapter 1

 

The woman from disability services—Penny had warned him not to be late, and Steve found himself sitting in the library nearly an hour early just to make sure that he wasn’t. He sat in a wooden office chair that had to be every bit as old as it was uncomfortable fidgeting and staring at the same page of his used paperback for most of the time. He had thought about perusing the fiction section for a bit, but embarrassment stopped him.

A mousy library assistant with a bun atop of her head nearly as big as she was had lead him back to the private study room reserved for them, making eyes at him the whole way and had offered to wait with him. He’d turned her down with a stuttered refusal and sat alone still feeling his cheeks stinging since. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her for any particular reason. He’d recently come to be honest with himself that he wasn’t interested in girls or women in general, and the admission made him even more awkward than he had been for the previous twenty-one years. Along with the social discomfort came the bone deep ache from missing his best friend. Bucky would have been able to easily turn the girl’s attention away from Steve and relieve any tension with just the quirk of his lips, but he was off in Afghanistan being a hero.

 

From outside the door, he could hear someone talking loudly: “I told you, man, the-handsome-wounded-duck thing works! You should have seen her rush around the desk to come help you.”

A second person let out a hesitant laugh. “If you say so. It could just be the blind-duck thing.”

“You’re delusional, dude.”

Just as Steve realized he was listening to the voice of Matt Murdock, the door opened. At first, it was hard not to stare. Matt was not a “handsome-wounded-duck” or just a “blind-duck”; he was a handsome man first and foremost. He a few inches taller than Steve was and athletically slender with longish brown hair that fell over his forehead and the most beautiful smile in the world. He was so taken aback by how good looking that his new employer was that he almost didn’t notice the harsh stare down he was getting from Matt’s friend. Unlike the former, the guy leading Matt was chubby and scruffy with stringy blonde hair and a stoner-looking goatee.

“Hi,” Steve managed to squeak up. “I’m Steve. I’m your reader.”

Matt held a hand out towards his general direction and smiled. “I’m Matt, and this is my room mate, Foggy”

“Hey,” Foggy said with a slight nod. He obviously assumed that Steve had been staring at his best friend for less than positive reasons. “There’s a chair about two steps in front of you, Matt. Are you sure you don’t want me to come back for you?”

“I promise I won’t end up in a ditch somewhere. I can walk back to the dorm on my own,” Matt assured him. There was an exasperated acceptance of his friend’s over protectiveness that was more than just a bit familiar to Steve.

Foggy nodded and then instantly rolled his eyes. “Just nodded, dude. Anyway, I am off to do some studying of my own.”

Matt let out a throaty laugh that made something deep inside of Steve clench. “Watching porn is not studying.”

Once Foggy was gone, Steve reached for the stack of books he’d picked up at the front desk with sweaty fingers. “They sent over all of your books. Do you know where you want to start?”

“Not to be rude, but does my blindness bother you? You sound kind of nervous...”

“No, not at all,” Steve blurted out way too fast. He bit his lip and took a deep breath. “I’m not too good with people in general. Sorry if you thought it was you.”

“Would you really tell me if it was me?” Matt’s lips quirked up slightly at the question and his dark brows shot above his sunglasses.

“Probably not,” he admitted. “But seriously, I’m kind of a dork. I guess I wasn’t expecting you to be cool.”

That smooth, rumbling laughter erupted again. Matt sighed and shook his head. “First, my room mate is convinced that I can get him girls and now you think I am cool. College has to be some sort of alternate universe. Would it help if I told you I am probably a bigger nerd than you could ever be?”

Steve let himself relax just a bit. “Doubtful. I was on the chess team and the art club.”

“I can top that,” Matt announced with something akin to pride. “Captain of the debate team and four year member of the youth government.”

“I spent my prom night in a basement watching classic sci-fi with my best friend.”

“At least you didn’t spend it with a nun.”

“A nun?” Steve spat out.

The blind boy shrugged. “I lived at an orphanage run by a convent. Sister Mary Katherine thought I would be depressed about missing out on prom, so she took me to a free jazz concert—it was actually more fun that I would have had at prom.”

Steve smiled sadly. “I was lucky. My best friend’s mom took me in after my mom died.”

 

“So we are both members of the geek-orphan club. Does that knock me down from the cool pedestal?” Matt asked.

Without thinking, Steve bobbed his head.

“I am going to assume that was a nod?”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, it was.”

With the tension gone, the pair settled easily into work. Most of Matt’s classes were basic 101’s, so Steve didn’t have any problem reading the content aloud as the other boy typed his notes on his laptop. Every so often, Steve couldn’t help but steal a look at his partner. He loved the look on concentration that washed over Matt’s face as he typed. The odds of him having anything in common with someone who seemed so cool and confident were amazing but here they were. By the end of the second hour, with his throat hurting, he reluctantly shut the book.

Frowning, Matt traced his fingers over his watch. “We were only scheduled for an hour tonight. You should have let me know it was passed time.”

“It looked like you had a lot to go over, and I didn’t mind,” Steve tried to assure him timidly. In all honesty, he hadn’t wanted the time to end.

Pushing his glasses up, Matt rubbed his face. “It takes me longer to get back to the dorm than it does most people, and I bet Foggy already has the campus police out looking for me.”

“I could walk back with you. I know what it’s like to have an over-protective friend, and sometimes it isn’t worth rocking that boat.

Matt looked skeptical, but got up and began piling his things into his bag and unfurling his cane. “Have you ever led a blind person before?”

“No, but I am a quick learner.”

“Let me take your elbow,” he said, holding his hand toward Steve. “I’ll follow just a step behind, but please let me know about any steps or obstacles and which way they go.”

As soon as Matt’s fingertips connected with his bare arm beneath his t-shirt sleeve, Steve knew for sure that he had his second biggest crush of his life. Butterflies were doing somersaults in his stomach and his tongue suddenly felt like sandpaper in his mouth. He had to force himself to say something. “What hall do you live in?”

Luckily, Matt’s dorm wasn’t too far from the library, Steve knew right where it was. He was careful to keep his eyes peeled for anything that could trip Matt as they walked, and the act distracted him from his nervousness. They were almost half way there before either of them said anything.

“The best friend that you lived with… I assume he was the over protective one?”

Steve cracked a smile. “Yeah. I haven’t always had the best health, and Buck always looked after me—even when we were just kids.”

“Oh,” Matt intoned. It was funny how one little syllable could convey so much understanding, but when most people would have prodded, he didn’t.

“How long have you known Foggy?”

“Since move in—not all that long,” the dark haired man said with a shrug. “He’s a bit off, but I like him.”

Before they could talk about anything else, the sound of clomping footsteps raced up behind them. “Matt!” an out of breath Foggy called as he came to a staggering stop next to them. “I’ve been all over campus looking for you, buddy.”

Scratching his head uncomfortably, Matt shrugged. “We lost track of time.”

“ _I_ lost track of time,” Steve chimed in. “It went quicker than I thought.”

Once again a pair of pale blue eyes were glaring at him for all he was worth. Foggy frowned and yanked his back pack higher on his shoulder. “Well, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Hard to replace a roommate who can get you in with the next level of women if I get lost on my way back from the library, is it?” Gripping his cane with both hands, the blind boy gave a blistering stare to the empty space between his companions. “And for the record, I am capable of reading a damn clock.”

Neither Steve nor Foggy had been expecting the bitterness on the edge of Matt’s formerly pleasant voice. They both flinched and eyed each other suspiciously—like they thought the other one was to blame for the whole thing. Before Steve could say a word, the heavier blond pushed by him and nudged Matt’s arm. “I didn’t mean it, dude,” he muttered.

Muttering a weak goodbye, Steve turned away from the pair and headed toward his bus stop. He knew it would be quite a while before the next one came, but he didn’t really care all that much. Matt’s disgust with him was still echoing in his ears as he flopped his bag onto a bench and slid down beside it. Of all people, he should know better. For years, Bucky had treated him like glass, and then not an hour after complaining about it to one of the few people he’d met with similar experiences, he made the same mistake. Steve raked a hand through his hair and let out a groan. He wasn’t sure exactly how to apologize for being an ass, but he’d better think of something before their next session later in the week—that was if Matt didn’t ax him before then.

Steve boarded his bus and made his way home still under a dark cloud. The fact that his roommate was parked on the futon that he used as his bed, apologetically playing a video game with a half empty bottle beside her when all Steve wanted to do was sleep didn’t improve things. Jessica gave him a quick glance as he locked the door behind him.

“You look like shit, boy scout,” she murmured without preamble.

When he’d interviewed with her before moving into her living room/second bedroom/office, she’d given him the nick name after finding out that he didn’t smoke or drink and that it would be unlikely he’d be bringing anyone home. Her ground rules were simple: make yourself scarce while she was with a client, stay out of her fucking business, don’t touch her booze, and put the toilet seat down. Steve had readily agreed to the terms and shelled out his half of rent. The private investigator wasn’t the friendliest person to live with, but he was learning to get along with her well enough.

“It’s been a long day,” he replied with a sigh. He sunk into the flimsy cushion beside her. He’d tried to put as much emphasis on the word “long” as he could, but knowing Jessica like he did, it was doubtful she would care.

After executing a gruesome winning move over her opponent in the game, she set the controller aside and took a long drink straight from the bottle. “Welcome to the first stage of adulthood.”

“I’m going to take a shower and get changed. Mind calling quits?” he asked, biting back the urge to tell her that he was already more of an adult than she would ever be. Steve knew what it was to have long days. Sometimes it felt like his life was one never ending stream of them. He just wanted to shut his eyes and let this one end. Maybe when he was out cold he could forget that he’d made a real douche of himself to the incredibly handsome, nice guy that he was supposed to be working with this semester.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has left Kudos and put this on follow. I hope you like the new chapter!

Chapter 2

 

Matt wasn’t used to his room yet. The mattress beneath him felt alien and the scent of the place was wrong. Even Foggy’s erratic snores from across the room put him on edge. He hadn’t felt at home since he’d been shuffled into the back of a car by a police officer on the way to St. Agnes all those years ago. If he was really honest with himself, he could admit that he had been hoping that something would just click the moment he stepped into the dorm—that he would suddenly feel right in the world again. The funny part was that it was an ache he had almost been able to ignore at the orphanage, but the hope that he’d in had cut the wound right back open. Life in college was supposed to be the start of his adult life, and here he was missing his father in a way that he hadn’t in years. With a heavy sigh, Matt kicked off the sheets and crept across the room to where he tucked his shoes and cane.

The cold night air came as a relief as it washed over his face. He’d walked the paths to his classes and the library a few times, but he didn’t particularly feel like getting lost in the middle of the night so he sat down on the cool concrete steps in front of the dorm and just listened. Though the campus wasn’t too far from the world he’d known growing up, the energy of the place was entirely different. During the day he heard snippets of a hundred different conversations, but the voices of them weren’t as strained and nervous as the ones he usually heard on the streets. The night wind didn’t sweep along the shouts and sirens he’d become accustomed to. Much like his room, he’d expected the change to be more welcome than it really was.

Thank God for Foggy Nelson. His roommate was the only part of the whole thing that had felt right. Where most people shied away from any mention of his blindness, Foggy had seen it as an opportunity to hook up with girls. There had been a dozen awkward moments at least in the first day alone, but the awkwardness wasn’t because of Matt. Surprisingly, his roommate’s quirks were probably his best feature. It felt good to have someone who truly made him laugh and seemed to understand Matt’s own self-deprecating sense of humor in return. They fit together so well that it was almost like the first act in some rom-com movie—minus the “rom.”And after meeting Foggy, for a brief second, Matt had even fantasized that he’d met some one else that he clicked with fulfilling the “rom” part.

The earnest, deep tones of Steve Rogers still echoed in Matt’s ears, even though he wanted nothing more than to block it out. When the older boy had started talking about his life walking a similar line to the one Matt had been walking, defenses that had been built up by years of let downs had begun fall. But then Steve proved that he really didn’t understand anything about being different at all. For all of his supposed annoyance with his friend, he sure fell into the protector role the instant there was the first sign of trouble. The way he’d piped up to take the blame for them being late coming back rankled more than Foggy’s ignorant over protectiveness did a thousand times over. Steve was supposed to understand. He was supposed to an under dog.

Running his fingers over the face of his watch, Matt pushed aside the urge to pull out the pre-paid cellphone Sister Mary Katherine had slipped in his pocket on his way out the door. She’d made him promise to call her any time he felt like he needed to talk, but he didn’t want to take her up on the offer at nearly two in the morning. He could hear her scoffing at the hour and stifling a yawning as she answered, but he still didn’t have the heart to wake her. In her late seventies, the aging nun didn’t usually stay up much later than nine after reading to the younger children and was usually up before five getting ready to face a day filled with loving kids who’d rarely experienced the emotion. It was impossible not admire the dedication of all of the nuns at St. Agnes, but Sister Mary Katherine was something else. She was probably the closest thing to a mother that Matt had ever had, and he knew he was far from the only one to come through the orphanage doors to share that feeling. He made a silent promise to call her in the morning and made his way back up the steps.

“Must have been some huge shit,” Foggy’s voice murmured from across the room as soon as Matt stepped foot in the door.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Matt apologized, hanging his cane back where he’d got it from. “I just needed some air.”

“Wasn’t sleeping anyway,” the other boy lied.

“So that was fake snoring?”

Foggy let out a snort. “Uh, I will have you know that my sleep-acting is probably the best in the whole damn city.”

Letting out a chuckle, Matt flopped back on to his bed and tucked his hands behind his bed. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, dude. Maverick and Goose, remember?”

“Are you homesick at all?” Matt felt stupid for asking, but he suddenly needed to know if Foggy felt even a bit like he did.

“Yeah,” the reply was barely a whisper. Then came a short chuckle. “It’s kind of pathetic actually. I spent the last four years of my life dreaming about what college would be like, and I find myself missing the way my mom folds my clothes even though she is a hop skip and a bus ride away. How about you?”

“I’m homesick, too,” he admitted. Saying the words was almost like a magic spell. No sooner had they escaped his lips than Matt felt a heaviness drifting over his face. “Good night, Foggy.”

Thankfully the enchantment that had allowed Matt to sleep easily lasted well into his first week of classes. The more other freshmen he talked to, the more he found out—more subtly than he had with Foggy—that they were nearly as out of sorts as he was. He felt more grounded with each step he took on the campus. He’d even been bold enough to agree to attend a party with Foggy and did his best to be the wing man his roommate assumed he was. It wasn’t until his scheduled reading session with Steve loomed closer that Matt began feel uneasy again.

This time Matt made it to the library solo and assured Foggy that he would give him a call if he ran into any trouble. He was mildly surprised when he made it the study room before Steve did. He unpacked his laptop and tape recorder slowly trying to keep his mind on the class work he needed to get done rather than the fact that he still wasn’t feeling entirely forgiving from the week before. The feeling was even heightened as he realized that his reader was late. He was just about to call Penny and request someone else when a soft knock came to the door.

“Hey,” Steve said weakly from behind him.

Matt usually tried to face sighted people when they talked to him, but in this case he didn’t feel like caring. “Hi,” he replied in a clipped tone. “Aren’t you a little late?”

“I kept waiting for the lady who set this up to call me and tell me not to bother. I really didn’t think you’d want to see me again,” he admitted, as the telltale creak of a chair came from across the table.

“I guess that is one advantage of blindness,” Matt quipped.

“I’m sorry for jumping in like that the last time,” Steve blurted out. “I just didn’t like thinking that I had caused you and your roommate to argue. And I know you are perfectly capable of telling time...I just was kind of glad that you didn’t notice it was so late and that I got to hang out with you a little more. I just have a lousy way of showing it, I guess.”

Most of the built up annoyance and anger that Matt had been harboring seemingly disappeared with Steve’s “aww, shucks” styled apology. There was something about how bashful Steve seemed that it was almost like the dialog in one of the old movies Sister Anne had loved to put on in the evenings back in St. Agnes. It was oddly endearing.

“I guess when you put it like that, I have to forgive you,” he said, feeling his lips curving of their own will. “And you don’t have to read my class work to me if you want hang out with me. Granted, the reading does help, and I hope you won’t stop that. But if you want to do something outside of here, we can. I don’t have many friends yet.”

“Me either,” Steve agreed with the breathy sound of relief in his voice.

Matt held out his phone. “This one is pretty basic, so it’s just easier if you put your name and number in.”

Slender fingers picked the device from Matt’s grasp, and he was once again surprised by the difference between the depth of Steve’s voice and how fragile he had felt when he’d led Matt. As a kid Matt had hoped to grow to be as big as his dad had been and had been disappointed when he stopped growing. It was rare that he felt as large as he had when he was next to Steve. It made him wonder if some how his growth had been stunted somehow. He didn’t feel right asking exactly what kinds of health problems Steve had mentioned before, but the sound of slight breathlessness as they had walked that night had made him wonder if maybe asthma wasn’t at least one of them.

They ended the reading session on time—much to Matt’s secret disappointment. He’d been enjoying listening to Steve’s voice as he worked. He would have been lying if he’d said that the smooth steady tone from across the table wasn’t just a tad distracting from the work he was supposed to be learning. As he packed his things back into his bag, an idea struck him.

“Foggy and I found this little hole in the wall right off campus last week with some pretty amazing burgers. I can’t remember the name of it, but I was wondering if you’d like to grab something to eat with me?” he asked, feeling his heart rate rising into his throat. He wasn’t exactly asking Steve on a full fledged date, but it was close enough.

“Luke’s Bar?”

“Yeah, that it.”

There was a quick shuffling sound as Steve was probably packing up, but he was quiet longer than Matt would have hoped. When he finally did say anything, he almost sounded as nervous as Matt was. “I’m not that hungry, but I would like a cup of coffee.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

Steve had played out the scene in his library a thousand times before walking through the door. He’d imagine so many horrible scenarios that it nearly made his head spin, but they all ended with Matt hating him—even if he didn’t get canned before his second session. He kicked at loose stone on the walk and stared up at the stairs before him. Buck had always said that Steve didn’t have the sense to be scared when he should be. In high school, bullies beating up underclassmen for their lunch money didn’t scare him; he’d waded into the middle of it without a thought to the bruises that would follow and the second-hand heart beating in his ribs. But here was staring up the library with his chest clutching at the thought of what Matt would say. Scrunching his eyes shut tightly, he managed to pull what little courage he had left. What happened next still felt like bizarre dream, but here he was an hour later walking out of the library with Matt’s hand on his arm again.

With a bemused smile, he stole a glance at the younger boy next to him as they walked. He still couldn’t believe that Matt had asked him to go to Luke’s. At best, he had assumed that the offer of friendship he’d given was just lip service. A lot of people had offered to be Steve’s friend, very few had ever come through as more than a Facebook friendship or the occasion request to join a study group. He supposed his admission of liking spending time could have come off as a lonely plea rather than what it actually was. The odds of Matt being gay and interested in him were too small to even think about.

The bar was barely off campus, but was far enough that Steve’s lungs were starting to ache by the time they got there. Matt’s own natural stride seemed to be a lot quicker than his, and he’d been trying to avoid seeming like he was holding back for the blind boy’s sake so he just pushed himself to move quicker. It was hard to imagine that his companion didn’t hear his wheezing, but he was grateful that Matt didn’t point it out. He pulled out his inhaler and asked for a minute before things got too embarrassing.

“Asthma?” Matt asked once Steve was breathing normally again.

“Among other things,” he answered. He supposed it was best to just get it all out. “I had heart transplant when I was thirteen, and on top of that and the asthma, I am also allergic to so many things that it almost feels easier to list things I’m not _allergic_ too.”

“No wonder your friend wanted to look after you,” Matt said with a cocked smile. “What do you say we make a deal?”

“Sure,” Steve agreed hesitantly.

“If you need something: ask. I’ll do the same. No shame and no stupid assumptions,” he added holding out his hand. It was a corny gesture, but Steve shook it anyway.

“That sounds nice.”

Once inside Luke’s, the pair slipped into a corner booth in the back. There were a few people at the bar and at least one other table. Despite being so close to campus, the dive wasn’t all that popular with the college crowd. The place had a reputation for being less than friendly to anyone with a fake I.D., and the owner/namesake was not the kind of person to turn a blind eye to drunken antics on his property. Though the food was good, it was actually rare to hear that anyone else at school went to the place. Steve wouldn’t even know it was there had he not had to come get a sloppy drunk Jessica a time or two.

“Want me to read the menu off for you?” Steve offered as he pulled off his hoodie.

Matt shrugged. “I like what I had the last time, so unless you think I am missing out, I am good. What are you getting?”

Heat flooded Steve’s cheeks. He had about fifty bucks to his name to last until his funding came through. Initially, he’d wanted to turn Matt down just because of the cost, but he hadn’t been able to resist. The scent of the burgers and fries was thick in the air, and he’d like nothing better than to sink his teeth into a burger. Still, shelling out at minimum ten bucks for something to eat wasn’t within his current budget.

“I’m not hungry,” he lied.

At first, Matt looked like he might call him out, but leaned back in the booth thoughtfully and gave one of those smiles that nearly melted Steve into a puddle. “It’s not much of a date if you don’t let me buy you dinner.”

“A date?” Steve mumbled through lips that felt like the Sahara.

“If you want it to be,” Matt said a little more shyly. “I got the impression that you were open to it.”

His mind was reeling. If he had been surprised that Matt had accepted his apology so easily, he was in absolute shock that this could actually be a date. It was embarrassing to admit that aside from the double date disasters Bucky had set up in high school, he had never been out on a date. He was suddenly very aware that he was in the same hoodie he’d been wearing for days and hadn’t put more deodorant on before leaving the house. A million insecurities raced through Steve’s head. Somehow, he found his voice though. “I’d like that.”

Matt’s grin widened displaying white teeth and a slight crinkling just beneath his glasses. “Well then, what are you getting?”

It was no surprise that they both ordered basic cheeseburgers with fries and a couple of cokes. The waitress that took their order eyed them as though she suspected they were two nerds on a date—which would have been completely accurate. She popped a large bubble with her gum and shoved her notepad in her apron. “If you two split a sundae for desert, I’ll barf,” she quipped before walking away.

Rather than take offense, they ended up laughing for a long time. Matt took off his glasses and wiped his eyes. Steve was dying to see his eyes, but the glasses were back on too quickly as he sobered up enough to talk.

“I think that was the same waitress waited on Foggy and I. I wonder what’s so different about you and me?”

“I think she saw the way I was looking at you,” Steve said flirtatiously, feeling a little bolder than before.

“And how is that?” Matt asked, biting his lower lip.

Steve squirmed in his seat as his bravery evaporated. “You know… Like you’re a really good looking guy, and I’m just lucky to be here.”

“Am I?” He seemed genuinely surprised by the comment, not at all like he was fishing. Finally, he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I was nine the last time I saw myself. I guess I still see the scrawny goofy looking kid when I picture myself. I can’t imagine anyone saying I’m good looking and meaning it.”

“Well, I mean it.” For some reason, Steve’s voice didn’t waver one bit. He wasn’t shy about it.

“I’m glad.” The corners of Matt’s mouth ticked up, and he held his hand across the table. Steve didn’t hesitate to entwine his fingers. It was comforting that Matt’s hand was slightly sweaty just like his own.

“You two are just about adorable.” The waitress had managed to sneak up on the both of them while they were chatting. She sat both plates down with a thunk. “Burger’s at six and fries at twelve. The pickle and mayo are on the side toward two o’clock.”

“Thanks,” Matt said as he felt for the edge of the plate. “I’m sorry, what is your name? I didn’t hear it before.”

“Because I didn’t give it before, and it’s Darcy. Anything else you two need?” She crossed her arms underneath her breasts and fixed her gaze at Steve.

 

“I think we’re good,” he said, trying not to shrink away from her brown eyes. She didn’t waste any time taking that as her cue to leave. He turned his attention back to Matt who was spreading may on on his bun. “Do a lot of waitresses do that? The clock thing, I mean.”

Matt shook his head. “She is the first who did it without me asking. I’m not a hundred percent sure if I should be offended or grateful.”

The two made short work of the burgers. Steve had been making due with mac and cheese, ramen, and frozen dinners for the last few weeks and couldn’t remember ever tasting such a good burger. Even the light ring of pink at the center—something that usually grossed him out—seemed just perfect to him. He scarfed up the last little extra crispy bits of fries and leaned against the booth with a contented sigh.

“How about that sundae?” Matt asked mischievously.

Steve laughed. “I am full. How about next time we go for ice cream?”

“I’d like that.”

Neither of them was all that quick to get up. Darcy made a quick stop by to re-fill their drinks but even she didn’t seem like she was in that much of a hurry to get rid of them. They didn’t flirt too much more—much to Steve’s disappointment. Instead they talked about their lives before Columbia. Steve told him about how his father had left shortly after he was born with a death sentence over his head and how his mother had died of an aneurism at forty. In turn, Matt shared that he had never known his own mother and had been raised by his father who was a boxer.

“I bet you knew how to protect yourself as a kid,” Steve said, momentarily day dreaming about what it must be like to get to take your aggression out on a bag.

“It wasn’t like that at all,” Matt said with a frown. “Dad didn’t want me to fight. He would barely let me into the gym until after I lost my sight. Fighting was only something you did if you didn’t have a chance for better, he used to tell me, and he always wanted me to be better.”

Though Matt had made causal mentions that there had been a “before he lost his sight,” Steve had been too nervous to ask earlier. But they had shared a lot in one evening, and he couldn’t say he wasn’t curious. “How did it happen?”

Stiffening suddenly, Matt swallowed hard. “Car accident when I was nine. It was kind of a double whammy actually. I had some burns on my cornea, but what actually did it was the way my head hit the pavement. They call it ‘cortical blindness.’ Even if they could fix my eyes, my brain wouldn’t let me see.”

“Sorry,” Steve apologized as he gave Matt’s hand a slight squeeze. “I guess I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No,” the darker haired man said sternly. “I would rather you ask. It’s just that I don’t mind talking about my blindness, but it’s harder to talk about how it happened. Sometimes when people hear how it happened they treat me different.”

“I know what you mean. When I was in grade school, I always had to miss out on gym and all of the ‘normal’ things the rest of the kids did. Even then, explaining that I had a heart condition made people treat me like I was contagious. After the transplant, it was easier to do the things I wanted to but I had to be so damn careful, and I guess in the way people wanted to pretend that things were either a hundred percent better or that I was still on death’s door.” Even with Bucky, Steve had never really openly talked about how people treated him. He may have implied that people treated him crappy, but it was oddly liberating to admit how it had really been.

They paid their bill, and started the long walk back to the dorm. Steve was thankful that Matt hadn’t suggested a cab, relishing that he got even another twenty minutes more together. This time as he looked at Matt, he didn’t see just a handsome guy. Matt was certainly charming and caring as he’d first assumed, but he was also just as insecure as Steve was, even if he was better at covering it up. It made him a real person rather than someone so perfect that Steve couldn’t hope to actually have a chance.

“It’s a pretty night out,” Steve said, staring up at the stars peeking through the trees that had just begun to turn.

Matt leaned his head back and took a deep breath. “It is,” he agreed. “I love the smell of fall.”

“I guess I’ve never really paid all that much attention to it. Usually, within the first few weeks my allergies are so bad that I can’t breathe through my nose,” Steve lamented.

A strong wind blew and the hoodie that had been warm enough a few hours ago didn’t seem like much against the cold. Shivering, Steve did his best to stop the tremors from catching Matt’s attention but failed. “Cold?” he asked.

“A little,” Steve admitted shyly. Without a word, Matt stripped off his jacket and held it out. Steve hesitated before taking it. “You don’t have to...” he began to demure.

Reaching out, Matt’s hand found his shoulder, and he draped it over Steve’s shoulder. “Take it. I miss a lot of cues that other guys would pick up on. Don’t begrudge me the rare chance to be a gentleman.

They were so close that Steve could feel his breath against his face. His heart raced, and he was tempted to lean in for a kiss, but was too nervous. “Thanks,” he murmured. “I just hope you won’t expect me to play the lady all the time.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Matt grinned, but didn’t move his hands away from Steve’s shoulders

Steve’s courage surged, and he almost began to move in for the kiss when the cell phone in his pocket began to buzz.

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 

Dating Steve Rogers was almost like acting out a 1940’s romance. It was all shy banter and ghosting touches. Steve was actually bashful—a word that he hadn’t heard applied to anyone outside of a dwarf in a Disney movie in his whole life. He was sweet, funny, and just awkward enough to be endearing. Their first kiss had come three dates after that night at Luke’s and had ended when they knocked their foreheads together and started laughing. Since then aside from rather chaste—too chaste, if you asked Matt—kisses and hand holding, things had been moving slowly. They saw each other twice a week for reading sessions and then usually went for a walk or a bite afterward. Though he hadn’t put a name to the feelings building inside of him, Matt was quite sure he knew what they were. Even Foggy picked up on it.

“I’m just saying that it’s a bit disappointing that my roommate fell for a guy who won’t even tag along to a party every now and again,” Foggy said as they made their way through the packed frat house. “I mean gay best friend would go even further than the whole blind duck thing.”

Matt laughed and shook his head. “I’m not gay.”

“Bisexual,” he amended.

“Besides, not everyone feels the need to spend their weekends wading through half trashed undergrads,” Matt grumbled as someone jostled against his arm for the dozenth time.

Crowds were rough. It was hard for Matt to get his baring and all of the voice around him turned into one big wall of incoherent sounds. He’d never complained about it to Foggy because he knew that his roommate was still hoping for some sort of social redemption in college. Matt had been towed along to more parties in the first few weeks of school than he had in his whole life combined. He kept hoping the novelty of beer and sorority girls who still managed to wrong number him even when they were falling out of their shoes wore off. Thankfully, Foggy managed to find them some sort of alcove that was less chaotic.

“I’m gonna go get us a couple of beers,” Foggy said, leaving him behind without waiting for an answer.

Leaning against the wall for some sort of support, Matt let out a heavy sigh of relief. He was just glad that he hadn’t been drug back across the room to where it sounded like one hell of a game of beer pong was being played.

“HEY! I KNOW YOU!” A girl shouted from a foot or so in front of him.

Though he was startled by her sudden approach and annoyed at her for assuming that the white cane meant he couldn’t hear, he pasted on a smile. “Sorry, there’s a lot of noise here, and I can’t place your voice.”

“Marci Stahl,” she replied slightly softer. Marci shoved her hand in his. “You’re in my ec-ca-economics class.” Her hiccups worsened and he could feel her swaying slightly.

“Matt Murdock.”

“Like M names,” she said, pitching forward. He managed to wrap his arms around her waist as she flopped against him like a dead fish. She wasn’t too heavy, but without her help, he was glad that there was a wall behind them. The scent coming off of her breath brought a new meaning to the term ‘stinking drunk,’ and he highly doubted she was up to taking care of herself.

“Marci,” Matt began soothingly, “how much did you drink?”

Her answer came as a garbled mumble into his shoulder, but he thought he made out something about rum. She wrapped herself tighter against him.

“Holy shit, dude! I’m gone for three minutes, and you have a hot blonde hanging off you,” Foggy said followed by the tell tale thunk of bottles being set down. “Is she conscious?”

Marci picked that moment to lift her head. “You’re cute like a teddy bear,” she said and began laughing uncontrollably. Her unpredictably shifting weight threw Matt almost off balance.

“You take a side and I’ll take a side,” Matt suggested. He was thankful when he felt Foggy’s hand brush against his own as he took his place.

“What are we going to do with her?” Foggy asked. “We can’t just drop her in the corner.”

“You could drop her in my room,” a male voice leered from the crowd.

Matt didn’t recognize the voice, but that didn’t mean he didn’t recognize the type. The newcomer was exactly the type of asshole who liked to make himself feel powerful by preying on people who were at their lowest. A sour taste crept up the back of his throat, and he knew he would be damned if he let that asshole anywhere near the passed out girl. Marci may be a drunken mess, but he felt an iron-clad desire to keep her safe. Some people took drunk to mean “willing,” and whatever she was like sober, Marci didn’t deserve that.

“Foggy, I think your girlfriend has had enough. Why don’t we just take her back to our room for the night?” he said, trying to mimic the tone his father had so commonly used when he was coming to his very last nerve.

“Good idea, Matt.”

They somehow managed to half-carry, half-drag Marci out of the party. Matt tripped a few times and slammed into god only knew how many people, walls, and pieces of furniture along the way, but they did it. By sheer luck there was a bench not far from the house, and Foggy sat with Marci while Matt called a cab. Just as he’d hung up the phone, he heard the sound of retching followed by Foggy cussing.

“She just puked on my fucking shoes!”

If it weren’t for the fact that he was going to have to ride in the cab with that smell, Matt would have probably laughed at his friend’s plight.

By the time they had hauled Marci into the cab and then into their room, she’d thrown up three times and all but made a pass at Foggy. They settled her in Matt’s bed with a bucket beside her after sliding off her shoes. She began snoring almost immediately.

“Take my bed,” Foggy offered. “I can sleep on the floor.”

“It’s not even ten o’clock. Why don’t we save that for when we actually are going to sleep?” Matt’s brain was already working towards another idea of where to sleep for the night, but he didn’t need to tell Foggy that. “Mind keeping an eye on her? I’m going to make a quick call.”

“So you are going to crawl in bed with a blond after all,” his roommate teased.

Matt paused. “Steve’s a blond?”

“You didn’t know? I mean I know you can’t see it for yourself, but didn’t you ever ask? I figured that came along with some sort of face touching thing you did,” Foggy said uncomfortably. “I can describe him for you if you want.”

“No. Thanks for the offer though,” he answered on his way out of the room.

On his way to the front steps, Matt tried to summon up a picture of what he thought Steve looked like. He’d been told by his O and M instructor years ago that there might come a time when it got harder to visualize things, when his memories of sight may fade. As much as he’d fought it, Matt had come to accept the reality that the prediction had come to pass. His memory of his father was still the clearest in his mind, but even that had started to become hazy at times. Colors were also more and more muted as the years passed. Though he still liked to have an idea of what certain things looked like, the actual pictures weren’t what he’d hoped they’d remain. It was a depressing truth that he didn’t let bother him most days, yet right then he was strangely bothered that he hadn’t known that Steve was a blond. To him, Steve summoned up the sound of a deep, steady voice and the scent of Irish Spring soap. He didn’t think about Steve in visual terms really, and most days that was good enough. Tonight though, he wanted more.

He flipped open his phone and took a seat on the steps. It made him smile that Steve answered on the second ring like clock work.

“Is the party over already?” Steve asked with a muffled yawn.

“It’s over for us.” Matt launched into an abbreviated version of the events, laughing along with Steve as he went.

“So you lost your bed to a sorority girl?” Steve murmured with a chuckle. “I think most guys wouldn’t find that too unappealing.”

“Well, I’m not most guys. I want to know more about a person before I cuddle up to them.”

“Spoken like a fellow Catholic.”

Matt bit his lip. “Besides, there is someone else I would rather spend my night with.”

“Would it be someone who’s roommate is out of town on business?” Steve asked quietly.

“If that someone is ready to spend the night together; yes. But I don’t expect anything more than that to happen,” Matt assured him. It was kind of forward to call Steve expecting to be allowed to spend the night, but then again the pair had been dancing around the topic of staying together for a few days now and someone had to make a move sooner or later. Maybe getting accosted by a drunken girl wasn’t such a bad thing.

“I don’t mind,” Steve said after a long pause.

“Are you sure?”

“I promise, I’m okay with it. I just… The place isn’t much, you know? And we’ll be sharing a pullout instead of a real bed,” he explained with a heavy sigh.

“And you think I am expecting something fancy?” Matt asked with a snort.

“No, I think you deserve something fancy,” Steve countered with his signature gallant demeanor. “I would love to take you to some nice restaurant and back to a five star hotel. Just because I can’t do it and you understand, doesn’t mean that I stop wanting to.”

Matt’s throat was oddly thick. “Well, when you’re some big architect and I’m a lowly intern at some big firm, maybe then you’ll surprise me sometime.”

“You can count on it,” he promised. Funny thing was, even over the phone, he could tell Steve meant it.

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

Steve rushed around the apartment grabbing empty whiskey bottles and strewn panties from random places around the apartment. While he knew Matt couldn’t see the place, he knew that to the unaccustomed nose the place smelled like a locker room. He was glad that he’d spent the morning scrubbing the kitchen of the bacteria that was threatening to become sentient from the fridge and sink—something that Jessica wouldn’t probably even notice, but would have mocked him for caring about. He’d even taken the chance to strip the sheets from her bed that smelled like a month’s worth of a football team’s dirty socks and toss them in the hamper. Grabbing a bottle of extra strength Febreeze, he spray as much as he dared without giving himself an asthma attack. Having Matt stay the night was both a dream and a nightmare at once. The apartment wasn’t even the worst part.

They would be touching on the futon. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be up against Matt’s to die for body, but he would be in a way exposing himself to be “seen” for the first time. Sure, he knew that Matt must have figured out that he was a small, scrawny guy, but did he know just how scrawny? Did he know that his ribs stuck out despite his best attempts to gain weight or that his elbows and knees were as sharp as kitchen knives? He still didn’t believe that a guy like Matt would be interested if he knew what Steve really looked like. Stepping into the yellow tinged light of the bathroom, Steve pulled off his sweatshirt and stared at himself in the mirror. He closed his eyes and ran his fingers across the slightly puckered intubation scar on his throat and then trailed his fingers to the even larger scar that bisected his rib cage. His body felt nothing but scars and skeleton. Opening his eyes he took a deep breath and yanked his shirt back on, frowning at his reflection.

“What the heck are you doing, Rogers?” he muttered to the image staring back at him.

For good measure, he pulled out sketch book out of his bag and looked at the picture of him and Bucky he had taped to the inside cover. The two of them were day and night when they were side by side. Bucky was tall, dark and handsome with the kind of build that was usually reserved for the super heroes in comic books. Next to him, Steve looked fragile and pale. If the picture staring up at him wasn’t enough, the proof had been in the half dozen of double dates Buck had drug him on with whatever bleached-blonde Barbie he was currently seeing at the time. He could still accurately picture the poor best friend’s face when she realized that she was with him and not whatever Adonis she had been picturing. He shoved the book back in his backpack and kicked the whole thing under his “bed.”

Matt was going to be at the bus stop in less than twenty minutes, and Steve knew it was time to get it together or risk messing up arguably the best thing in his life at the moment. Being with Matt made him happier than Steve had been in a very long time—maybe ever. It was amazing to hang out with someone who liked to read the same things he did and thought about the same random things that popped in his head late at night. Even more amazing was that Matt was sweet and caring to a fault. He started bringing bottled water to the library when he realized that Steve usually forgot. When Steve mentioned that he liked a movie that Matt had never seen before, he brought a DVD copy that they watched while wrapped up in a blanket with hot chocolate under the stars on Steve’s laptop. If he was honest with himself, he was more than a little in love with Matt Murdock—and that was why he was so convinced that things were going to go horribly wrong. They always did.

The bus arrived a little early so it turned out to be a good thing that Steve had kept up his habit of being annoyingly early to everything. He called out to Matt the second he stepped off the bus, and found that his boyfriend wasn’t alone. A white haired woman patted Matt’s arm affectionately as she stepped up behind him. “You didn’t say your boyfriend was so handsome,” she said with a wide grin. “But I guess I’ll have to introduce my Peter to another nice young man.”

“I’m sure your nephew will meet someone, Mrs. Parker,” Matt replied keeping his infallibly charming smile in place.

“You two boys stay out of trouble,” she admonished with a wide grin, winking at Steve for good measure.

“Was she trying to set you up on the bus?” Steve asked in a hushed tone as he watched the old woman walk away.

Matt snorted. “Not really. I think she was just looking for an excuse to make sure I got off at the right stop. She seemed shocked that I was out roaming the city alone.”

Offering his arm the way Matt had showed him, Steve chuckled and shook his head. “Admit it, even old women love you.”

“I think it’s a byproduct of being raised by nuns, being blind, and being bi. I exude some sort safe aura, I guess.”

“Whatever it is,” Steve said rolling his eyes, “I’m just glad you told her you were taken.”

“Am I?” A dark brow edged over the top of Matt’s glasses, and Steve’s heart immediately sped up.

“Yes… I… I mean, that is if you want to be,” he stammered. His toe caught the edge of the building’s steps, and the two of them would have been in a heap if Matt hadn’t managed to steady them.

“Well, I’m here. Aren’t I?”

Matt’s hands tightened around Steve’s waist causing Steve’s breath to catch in his throat. Instinctively, he leaned into the touch until their foreheads were touching, wrapping his arms around the blind boy’s shoulders. Warm lips pressed against his brow and began make a soft tail of kisses down to Steve’s lips. Where their other kisses had been awkward, this one was nothing but perfect. Matt’s tongue swiped against his lips, forcing them open. His normal reaction would be to panic, but Steve’s body had long forgotten that this was something he should worry about. All he could think about was the taste of Matt and the feel that amazing moving across his own. As he pulled away, Matt let his teeth drag against Steve’s bottom lip, sending a wave of lust straight to his thickening cock.

“The real question is: do you want me to be here with you tonight? Say no, and I’ll hail a cab home with no questions asked. I’m not here to rush you,” Matt said softly as his fingers gently traced Steve’s jaw.

“I’ve never done any of this before,” he blurted out. His cheeks stung as he continued on. “I don’t know if I’m any good at kissing or anything else for that matter. You’re basically and Olympic diver, and I’m a cat being tossed in the swimming pool.”

Matt let out a wry laugh. “Would you feel better if I told you that I am a virgin too?”

“You are?” Steve asked incredulously.

“A girl back in high school gave me about thirty seconds of a hand job in the eleventh grade before we were caught by her mom.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Matt shook his head and shrugged. “Other than that, I’ve kissed exactly three people. The same girl that I just told you about, and a boy from St. Agnes.”

Feeling some of the tension release from his chest, Steve laid his head on Matt’s shoulder. “I guess the third time really is the charm. I kissed a girl in a game of spin the bottle when I was twelve, and the other person actually laughed it off when I kissed him last Christmas.”

“We can take our time. I want this to be more than just sex or friend’s with benefits. I just want to be with you—whatever you’re ready for is enough for me,” Matt said running his hand through Steve’s hair.

“Get a room, assholes!”

The harsh words made both of them jump. This time, they ended up landing awkwardly on the steps. Scowling down at them was Robyn from upstairs. Her twin bother trailed behind her like a frightened puppy as she stepped right over them, slamming the apartment door behind her. Ruben, her brother, at least looked embarrassed about her behavior but followed dutifully.

Rubbing his throbbing rear end, Steve let out a heavy sigh. “Those are my upstairs neighbors.”

 

“Lovely people,” Matt quipped as he managed to find his cane that had been flung in the fall. “But she did have a point. It probably is better to finish talking inside if that is all right with you.”

They made their way upstairs without any incidents and—after a quick tour of the apartment—ended up curled on the futon side by side. It still felt to early to lay down to sleep, so Steve settled in beneath Matt’s shoulder with his arms wrapped around Matt’s waist. There was something about their bodies together that just felt natural. It was hard to worry about all of the ‘what if’s’ when Matt made him feel so safe. Not even Bucky had ever made Steve feel so comfortable. It wasn’t until he heard his boyfriend let out a bit of a sigh that he began to wonder if he did the same for Matt.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked.

“Nothing’s actually _wrong_. It’s just I wanted to ask you something, but every time I think I’ve figured out how, I realize it’s going to sound weird,” he complained.

“So just ask.”

“What do you look like?” Matt asked a bit shyly.

“Other than being on the small side, I guess I’m pretty average,” Steve replied, trying to sound casual. This was exactly what he was fearing, but he’d never really thought that it would be something that Matt would be nervous about too.

“ _Average_ doesn’t help me much,” he said with a chuckle. “And I know that you’re probably about five-four. I am guessing about one hundred-ten pounds.”

“Five-three and one-fifteen. How did you figure that out?” Steve asked, perplexed by his accuracy.

“I’m five-ten and you’re head comes to just my shoulder—which I find amazingly hot, by the way. The weight was basically a guess. My jacket hung pretty loose on you from what I could tell that night at Luke’s. I’m about one-forty, and I assumed that I had at least thirty or so pounds on you,” Matt explained like it was all pretty obvious. Though, to be fair, he’d spent almost half of his life relying on his remaining senses and deductions fill in the gaps left by his blindness.

“What else do you know about how I look, Sherlock?” Steve asked, feeling more at ease letting Matt tell him what he’d already figured out.

Matt laughed and gave a sly grin. “You have really long fingers for such a small guy, so I am hopeful about other things.”

Slapping his shoulder lightly, Steve rolled his eyes. “Smart ass.”

“You told me that you’re mostly Irish, so I am going to guess that you are fair skinned.”

“I am,” he confirmed.

Tousling Steve’s hair, Matt made a faux-contemplative face. “Is that blonde I feel?”

“That was a total guess!” Steve cried out. “The right one but still a guess.”

“Was not,” Matt argued. “Foggy told me.”

“What else did Foggy tell you about me?” he asked as the nerves set in once more.

“Nothing else, but it is still more than you’ve told me. What color are you eyes?”

“Blue,” Steve answered letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Then an idea struck him: he’d never seen Matt without his glasses. “How about yours?”

Matt stilled and made a face. “Plain brown, last time I looked,” he answered. He slide off his glasses and turned more towards his partner’s voice. “You tell me.”

Swallowing hard, Steve tried to think of the words to describe the amazing color before him. “There’s nothing plain about your eyes, and they aren’t just brown. Technically, I guess you could call them hazel, but they’re amber and gold with even just a little bit of green in this light. They’re really beautiful.”

With an unerring accuracy, Matt’s mouth found his own and Steve was once again swept away in a tide of sensations. This time, hands roamed. Breaking away from the kiss, Matt traced the contours of Steve’s lips and jaw before once again before crashing his own back against him. Next his finger tips moved across the sharp lines of Steve’s jaw and blade of a nose followed by feather soft kisses taking the journey his hands had just moved over. The exploration turned to ticklish touches against the curves of his ears and gentle nibbles around the lobes. Moving upwards, Matt’s fingers outlined his eyes and the pads of his thumbs swept across his lashes. More kisses moved along his brow and the whole way up to his hair line. By the time he was finished, Steve’s groin ached with a familiar unfulfilled desire and his breaths came in short bursts. Somehow, Matt touching his face had become the most erotic moment of his life. He didn’t trust his voice, so he merely buried his face against Matt’s shoulder.

“You’re the beautiful one,” Matt said in a husky voice.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

 

Matt’s alarm was beeping endlessly on the nightstand as he groped with half awake fingers for the damn thing. Thankfully, Steve’s eyes weren’t as sleepy as Matt’s fingers and the older boy reached across him to shut it up. With their peaceful slumber interrupted, neither of them was going back to sleep, but that didn’t mean getting out of bed. Steve pulled the blankets tighter around them and snuggled into Matt’s chest. It had never occurred to Matt just how nice it was to have someone nuzzle his collar bone until he’d started dating Steve, but then again, he’d never thought about a lot of the wonderful perks of having a boyfriend. Kissing the blond’s hair, Matt let out a little sigh of contentment.

“What time is it?” he asked, not wanting to unwrap himself from Steve to activate the voice on the clock.

“Just after nine.” With a yawn, the smaller boy burrowed even further under the covers. “Maybe I’ll leave the bed at some point today, but not yet.”

Matt chuckled. He’d been hitting the gym in the mornings while the campus was quiet, but he would choose being cuddled up under the blankets with Steve over the treadmill any day. For someone who was as ambitious as Steve was, it was amazing how much he liked sleeping in. It hadn’t taken long after they began spending the occasional night together that he realized his boyfriend was not a morning person. While Steve could be persuaded to pull himself out from under the covers and somehow manage to focus for classes, he would easily sleep until noon if he was left to his own devices. As an early riser more by necessity rather than nature, Matt couldn’t argue that the occasional day spent in the sheets could be enjoyable—especially if Steve’s slender frame was pushed up against him.

Trailing his finger tips down the thin scar on Steve’s chest, Matt couldn’t help but be turned on by how the skin beneath his touch suddenly shivered. He was glad that he had managed to convince him that his scars were nothing to be ashamed of and was now granted access to freely touch his shoulders and chest. Matt couldn’t help being a tactile person. Years of living with his blindness had instilled in him a deep desire to explore the world with his finger tips, and Steve was certainly becoming an ever growing part of his world. The amazing part was that Steve didn’t seem to balk at all of Matt’s extra touching—he invited it and many times even initiated it. Sudden chuckling stilled Matt’s fingers just beneath Steve’s rib cage.

“That tickles,” Steve muttered capturing Matt’s digits amongst his own. “Besides, I’m not so sure that you should go much lower yet.”

Sighing, Matt drew the comforter over both of their heads. “You’re probably right,” he said in resigned agreement.

Sex had been the elephant in the room ever since their first night together on Steve’s lumpy futon. While neither of them had professed any real desire to wait for marriage, it had somehow become the unspoken rule that anything below the belt was off the table for the time being. Gay or not, both of them were fairly devout Catholics and moderately traditional. Besides, they were both virgins. Matt was beginning to feel ready to shed the title, but he guessed that Steve wasn’t just yet. He’d spent a lot of time willing his dick to go back to sleep and even more time touching himself imagining Steve’s hands instead of his own. There was no rush, and Matt would never try to talk Steve into doing something he wasn’t ready for, but that traitorous voice in his head was becoming louder with each day. Sooner or later, they were going to have to talk about what exactly they each were comfortable with.

“Is this what it’s like for you?” Steve asked softly, breaking Matt’s train of though.

“What do you mean?” Matt murmured, feeling slightly like he had missed the first part of the conversation.

“The dark,” he clarified. “With the blinds drawn and the blankets over us, it’s really dark in here. I keep trying to imagine what it’s like for you, but I guess I really can’t.”

The transition of topics in his mind nearly threw him for a loop, but then he paused for a moment. He hated this question. From the first time one of the kids in his neighborhood had worked up the courage to ask him not too long after the accident to that moment, he was never really quite sure how to answer it. His brain didn’t register the darkness the way it once had. In truth, he saw nothing—not even blackness—but explaining real nothingness to a sighted person was hard. Maybe even as hard as explaining colors to a person who had been born blind. Then an idea struck him. He grabbed Steve’s hand and tucked it under the pillow.

“What does your palm see?” Matt asked.

At first Steve let out a slightly uncomfortable laugh. “I feel...”

“No,” Matt corrected, “not feel. See.”

“It’s my palm, not my eyes. It doesn’t see anything.” Steve was silent for a moment. “So you really don’t see _anything_?”

“Not really. At first, it was way scarier than being stuck in a dark room. I think when you are in the dark, you expect that light will come at some point. This...well, this isn’t going to give way to light. But I’ve gotten used to it,” he added hastily. Stripping the covers down to their chests, he smiled in Steve’s direction.

“Don’t you ever what it would be like if someone was able to come up with a way for you to see again?” Steve asked, snuggling back up against Matt’s chest.

“When I was a kid, yeah. I thought about it all the time. Not so much now that I’m older. Why?” Matt asked nervously. Despite the fact that Steve seemed fine with Matt’s disability, sometimes that old self doubt would rear it’s ugly head.

“I don’t know. It’s just that when I was really small, they told my mom that there was no point in putting me onto the waiting list for a heart because I wouldn’t survive the surgery. Then when I got older, the doctors opinions changed...I was put on the list and then not even a year later I had a new heart in my chest. Even my asthma, they are coming out with new and better ways to control it each day it seems. I didn’t know if you ever thought about the ‘what if,’” Steve explained. “I didn’t expect to live to see twenty-one. Maybe something unexpected will happen for you too.”

Matt raked a hand through his hair and tried not to be angry. Logically, he knew that Steve was trying to be optimistic. But why was it when people were optimistic about disability it always had to be about “fixing” it? Why couldn’t an optimistic outlook include more inclusion? Why couldn’t it be about education and opportunity? Why did it always come down to curing his blindness? He had accepted who he was, why wouldn’t anyone else”

His thoughts must not have been as internal as he’d thought, because Steve shifted beside him and asked: “what’s wrong?”

“Me apparently,” Matt grumbled pulling away. “Can we just drop this topic? I’m not getting my sight back.”

“Sure. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Steve said softly. “I’m sorry.”

Letting out a long sigh, Matt reached out for Steve’s hand and gave his fingers a squeeze. “I know. It’s just hard to explain.” He sat for a minute on the edge of the bed before settling back in. “It took me a long time to accept that blindness was part of who I was after the accident. It’s a part of me that I can’t ignore or set aside. Even when I’m not thinking about it directly, it still affects every part of my daily life in one way or another. I’m fine with it—I really am. But when you start talking about me being sighted as being happier or better, it’s like you want me to start doubting myself again. Does any of that make any sense?”

“It does, and I’m sorry I made you feel that way.” The older boy paused and laid his head on Matt’s shoulder. “I don’t want to be the one that makes you doubt yourself. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m kind of crazy about you.”

Chuckling, Matt kissed the top of Steve’s head. “Crazy about me, eh?”

“Well, I’m afraid if I say what I really mean, you’ll head for the hills or at least the nearest bus stop.” Steve’s humor did a poor job of covering his nerves, and to be honest, at the mere thought of what else he could want to say, Matt was more than a little nervous himself.

“Could it be that you are as in love with me as I am with you?” Matt asked after his heart stopped pounding.

“I do. I love you, Matt Murdock,” he said timidly.

His lips trembled slightly as they met Matt’s, but the instant the kiss was returned, they became more confident and passionate. Slender hands began migrating down Matt’s stomach and beneath the waist band of his shorts. Taking a deep breath, he leaned back and let himself enjoy the feel of Steve touching him. He’d been thinking about those soft hands on his cock for a long time, but the reality was even better than the dream. Forcing himself to think rationally, he grabbed Steve’s wrist.

“I love you, Steve, but you don’t have to do this if you aren’t ready,” he managed to say despite his spinning mind.

“I want to.”

Wrenching his hand free, Steve went right back to what he had been doing before—gently trailing his finger tips up and down the length of Matt’s cock. His grip finally encompassed the entire girth and began working methodically up and down. With each movement, Matt felt himself flying a little higher. His heart was pounding in his chest, and the only thing he could think of was how good Steve’s fingers felt against him. As the tension mounted, he could feel himself on the edge of release.

“I’m going to...”

Steve’s kiss cut him off. “I want you to come, Matt. Please, come for me.”

It was a request Matt’s body was more than willing to comply with. The world spun suddenly as he felt himself release into Steve’s waiting hands. All he could do was let himself go limp against the pillow. Every cell in his body felt like it had suddenly been turned into Jell-o. His lips were too dry to speak, and it took several licks before he was even able to separate them.

“My god,” Matt moaned. “Are you sure you’re a virgin?”

Steve let out a throaty laugh. “A virgin that has been dying to touch you since I saw you walk into that library.”

“Can I return the favor?” Matt asked seductively.

“I think I may need a little bit of a recharge—you weren’t the only one who enjoyed that,” he added with a heavy dose of embarrassment.

Biting Steve’s ear playfully, the blind man let out a satisfied sigh. “We could go back to your place and clean up, if you are sure Jessica is still with her girlfriend.”

 


End file.
